


Cap Died, Bucky Cried

by BuckRogersMD



Category: Black Panther - Fandom, Captain America, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 11:53:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16174538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckRogersMD/pseuds/BuckRogersMD
Summary: Bucky and Nat alone.





	Cap Died, Bucky Cried

Bucky was at home in the room he used at the King's Palace. He laid face down on the bed with his metal arm stretched out, spread out, on the sheets. His human hand covered half his face, his hair covered the rest. One leg was cocked. He was shirtless. He wore pants that fell away loose down on his hips, below the dimples by his gluteus medius. The Wakandan sleepwear fabric was so sheer every curve, every bump and every ridge could be seen of everything he had.

Natalia walked in without knocking. 

He did not move a muscle. He did not care who was there. She slid a chair across the room and sat by the head of the bed.

"You have to listen to me. I want you to hear Cap's last request," she said.

On that he tensed. She could see the muscles of his chiseled ass contract beneath the sheer fabric. The small of his back arched and the ridge of his spine move forward as the muscles contracted up his back. He grunted.

"You're going to hear this." She had a determination in her voice.

"How could he make such a sacrifice?" He mumbled into the bed. "I was okay with it . . . with being . . . gone," he said.

His emotions were so exposed, so raw, so near the surface, so uncontrolled, she felt them in the room. Her heart sank. She knew what he said was the truth.

"He wants you to put on the suit and take the shield."

Tension ran up his latissimus dorsi. The deltoids and trapezius contracted and spread like wings. He rolled his face away from her and into the mattress. He curled into a ball and wrapped his metal arm around his head. He buried his face in the elbow bend of his organic arm.

She changed sides. She slid her chair around the bed and screeched the legs along the floor. She hoped the noise irritated him.

"I know how you feel . . . we all feel the same."

"No you don't," he mumbled into his arm. "Most of the time I knew him he was sick. My job was to look out for him – to protect him – and make it look like I wasn't . . . I failed at my job. And now you want me to take another job to fail."

"Not just me. The team has sanctioned this idea. The whole team . . . gave their blessing . . . " She waited for his reaction.

She waited a long time.

"This was not Steve's last request, Buck. This was his only request. You know the kind of faith he had in you."

Now, that got a rise out of him.

He squirmed on the bed. His breath quickened and he glanced at her. He held his head with his human arm, propped up on his elbow. She watched his deltoid pop and his pecs relax.

"I've done nothing but take orders for 70 years."

"I'm the team leader. You take orders from me." Natalie said emphatically.

"Alright . . . this will be a disaster."

"You let me be the judge of that."

She stood to leave but she did not leave.

He fell to his back and propped his head on his cybernetic arm and slid his legs over the sheets. She watched how the muscles of his thighs moved and how the skin on his chest and abdomen radiated a warm golden glow in the dimly lit room.

"Huh," she muttered as she noticed he was erect. She looked at him. He looked at her looking at him. It entered her mind that this was his normal state – that he lived with this kind of arousal day in and day out. He moved his leg to cover his exposure. He did not, however, look away. She could not stop the corner of her mouth from turning up into a sly smile.

He pinched the hem of her blouse and pressed the fabric between his fingers.

She glanced at his hand and glanced into his eyes. 

He held the contact, pulled her blouse and said, "I remember."

Shocked, her mouth fell open.

"It was something Shuri did." He rolled the fabric of her blouse between his fingers, 50 years of longing in his eyes.

She jerked her blouse from his grip and walk to the door. 

His heart broke a second time. He shut his eyes. He relaxed onto the bed and let out a resigned sigh.

She stood by the door with her hand on the door knob. She gazed up and down the door frame. She did not open the door. She flipped the inside lock shut with a snap.

His eyes opened wide. He rose on the bed and held himself up leaning on his arm. His eyes feasted on her and he uttered some syllables.

She stood over him.

He breathed in and out deeply. "No one will accept this."

"Oh, yes they will." She touched the top button on her blouse. She looked into his eyes – the blue everything. She touched him. She touched his head by his temple and ran her hand through this hair and down the back of his head. His hair felt like thick green grass – alive and lush. His eyelids fluttered. His emotions must be contagious. She moaned a few syllables herself. Her breathing increased to match his. There is no love like your first love.

He touched her wrist by his face. "You know I'm gonna take this seriously."

"I know you will." 

He melted in her hand like hot molten lava.

There they were again – his emotions washed over him like a tsunami - she fell into them.

 

If you enjoyed this little vignette, you may enjoy my larger work: The Three Stigmata of Bucky Barnes.

DISCLAIMER

All publicly recognizable characters, or settings, etc., are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This work is done purely for entertainment only with no monetary profit to be gained.


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